


Shall We Dance?

by Altenprano



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Dncing, F/M, Fluff, Jester gets relly bored realaly easily, Just some happy shippy things, Just some light happy fjorester fluff, The fjorester is light but it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 10:50:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16596461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altenprano/pseuds/Altenprano
Summary: While waiting for an audience with a lordling, Jester teaches Fjord one of the many dances the Traveler taught her, mostly because she's bored, but also because she's tired of dancing with an imaginary partner.





	Shall We Dance?

Jester didn’t like to wait. 

Sure, a lot of her life had been spent waiting in her bedroom for the Traveler to visit, or waiting for her mother to have a night where there were no gentleman callers, but that didn’t mean the blue tiefling girl was good at it, or that she particularly enjoyed it. 

There were ways around boredom, like drawing in her sketchbook (right now there was a particularly entertaining caricature of the half elf steward who had shown them in to the vestibule where they waited, complete with potbelly and bright yellow stockings), but those only kept her entertained for so long. She wasn’t as patient as Caduceus, who was speaking with a potted plant in the way he tended to do. Nor was she able to fidget quietly like Caleb, who was turning a copper piece over in a gloved hand, or Beau, who was tapping her fingers along the polished wood of her staff to some silent rhythm. Nott wasn’t there to keep her company- after their encounter with the bulettes, the goblin girl was resting with Frumpkin for company, and one of Caleb’s Alarm spells for safety- so there went chatting with her friend to pass the time while Lord Whats-His-Face decided whether or not they wanted to see their odd group. 

And then there was Fjord.

The half-orc was sitting on one of the ornate couches that occupied this corner of the vestibule, almost as still as a statue (what was it Caduceus had said that one time? “Still waters run deep?” Well, whatever that meant, Jester was sure it applied to Fjord right now). Sometimes his gaze would flit to Jester, who had given up sketching and  was now tapping her feet on the marble floor, but they never lingered. His gaze would then rest on the rest of the Nein, then go to the door where the steward and his humorously yellow stockings had disappeared ten, maybe thirty minutes ago now? 

Jester wasn’t sure how long he’d been gone, how long they’d been waiting here, in a silence so awkward it was almost painful. She missed Nott, she wanted to have someone to talk to who wouldn’t tell her to sit still and stop fidgeting with her sleeves or her holy symbol or  her skirts the way she was sure Beau was going to if the monk caught her at it one more time. She’d already drawn in her sketchbook, and she knew the Traveler didn’t want to hear about how boring it was to be waiting, so that left tapping her feet on the marble and listening to the soft echo of her shoes ring out and humming to herself as she did. 

She recalled when she was younger, passing the time by dancing with the Traveler around her room.  He’d taught her a lot of dances. He taught her dances from the Feywild (though without more people, he said, it wouldn’t feel like much), and how to waltz and how to dance the Zemnian polka. Dancing was always a good way to pass the time, and the Traveler was always a good partner, since it’s kind of hard to step on someone’s toes when they don’t have toes to begin with.

With that thought, she lept from her seat, drawing a quick glare from Beau before the human’s attention returned to her staff and the strange rhythms she was tapping, and spun a quick circle. She could imagine the flourish of strings that would accompany it, if she were a fine lady at a ball. She took a few steps, counting in her head ( _ one two three and _ ) as she stepped and twirled.

She kept stepping and twirling, humming a melody she’d heard played in the public room of the Lavish Chateau. As she danced, she held her arms up, as if she were dancing with someone- the Traveler, perhaps, or perhaps a handsome stranger- and imagined she was wearing a fancy dress with a wide skirt and a ribbon around her waist, and maybe even pretty dance shoes.

“What’re you doing there, Jester?” 

Fjord’s voice broke through Jester’s fantasy. The dress was gone, the ribbon around her waist disappeared, leaving only her embroidered belt in its place. The handsome stranger in her arms left as well, before Jester even had a chance to give him a face. 

“Dancing,” she said, spinning so that her skirt fanned out around her.

“With who?” Beau asked, arching a brow, as if to tease Jester. 

The blue tiefling grinned. “I don’t know,” came her answer. “But I’m sure he’s handsome, and charming, and strong, and a wonderful partner.” 

Beau faked swooning. “ _ Oh Oskar _ ,” she sighed, placing her hand on her forehead dramatically. “I never really liked dancing. Too stiff for me.” 

“I never would have guessed, Beauregard,” Caleb commented, a wry smile on his lips. He turned his attention to Jester. “Your dance is a Zemnian one,  _ ja _ ? You will forgive me, I cannot tell when it is just you.”

“I think it’s a Zemnian one! The Traveler taught me a lot of dances, you know. He’s a very good dancer.” 

“Is he now?”

“Of course he is!” An idea struck Jester, and she held out her hands to Fjord. “Here, I’ll show you how he taught me, just follow what I do. It’s easy.” 

There was a moment of hesitation from Fjord before the half-orc stood and placed his hands in Jester’s. “Alright,” he said, smiling. 

Jester felt her heart flutter as Fjord placed his hands in hers, and she hardly had to think before she placed one of his hands on her waist and took her skirt in her now free hand. She pulled him a bit closer, and raised their hands that were still clasped together. “You have to keep count. It’s not hard, just “one two three and,” and the rest is easy.” 

“One two three and,” Fjord repeated, and Jester nodded. “Right.” 

She started with small steps, the way the Traveler had shown her, letting Fjord get a sense of the steps before she picked up pace. Soon she was leaping around with Fjord in tow, counting as she went.

The Zemnian polka was not difficult. It didn’t have the complicated steps and turns and trade-offs of the Feywild dances, nor did Fjord, as the man, have to lead it if it were a waltz. It was just counting to three-and and stepping and sometimes turning and spinning, nothing too complicated. 

They danced like this for a while, spinning around the vestibule. Jester thought she heard Caleb humming along as she pulled Fjord after her. As they danced, Jester wasn’t sure if it was the continuous spinning or Fjord’s hand on her waist that put butterflies in her stomach.

“You’re doing great!” she said, grinning as Fjord attempted to lift her as they spun. “Not a lot of people are good dancers like you are, you know.”

“Uh, thank you Jester.” Fjord adjusted his hand on her waist, sliding his hand around to the small of her back as he grew more comfortable with the dance. “You’re a very good dancer yourself.”

“Of course I am, silly!”

Any retort that Fjord could fire back was cut short by the sound of someone clearing their throat as the half elf steward with the silly yellow stockings returned. 

“His Lordship will see you now,” he said, eyeing Fjord and Jester with the disapproval that only someone who hated fun could have, given the circumstances. 

Jester spun to a stop, and curtseyed to Fjord, the way the heroines in romance novels did when they were done dancing with a handsome stranger. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and butterflies darted around her stomach as she glanced up at Fjord, who gave a small bow. “Thank you for the dance.” 

“The pleasure’s mine,” Fjord said with a teasing grin. “Maybe you can show me later.” 

“That sounds wonderful! And I can teach you the waltz, and some of the dances from the Feywild, and we have enough people that those dances will look nice!”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this It's my first attempt at shippy fluff, so please let me know how I did, nd if you want to see more of this stuff in future.


End file.
